Outlook Not So Good

My Master has not been the same. I worry for him. He is under so much stress, and I feel so helpless, I feel as if there is nothing I can do. Except being there. Simply being there. I haven't strayed far from his side lately. I just keep hoping, that the madness I see in his eyes will fade. That the anger will disappear and, well, that none of this will be directed towards me. It is a fear, I admit. And at the same time? If I knew.. that it would help him, I'd gladly give myself up to whatever means necessary to get him back to the way he used to be.

It is so strange. Not so long ago, I hated the man. Despised the sight of him for what he'd done to me. And it was only days ago that I confessed to him that I love him. I did not expect anything in return. I wasn't waiting for anything in return. Yet, the kisses he pressed to my brow said.. so much, without him having to say a single word. They were.. loving. Tender. I wanted the moment to last forever. I wanted.. the way I felt then.. to never end.

Then, he told me something that set me on edge. I am frightened. I am concerned. And I cannot imagine a life without this man, this Master that I once hated with every core of my being.

If something were to happen to him, then, what would happen to me? I question that, and immediately I feel selfish. And I start worrying about him all over again.

For the past few days, I have asked him, if there is something I could do. He only pulls me close. He only wraps me in his arms. I am not writing that in a way to make it seem like nothing. It is far more than that. It is as if I sense.. I feel that he wants me, needs me. As if he might think I am the only person left in his life. As if.. I am some sort of lifeline for him. I know, that is a lot to assume, especially from a slave.

But I try to imagine myself in his position. I try to imagine myself with the same madness in my eyes and saying the same things that he has said to me. Then, it makes all perfect sense. He feels alone. Or, I think he feels alone. And so, I simply try to be there for him. Every step of the way, I will be there for him. And it isn't because I have to be.

It is because.. I want to be.

Here it is.

Here it is. My first gift from the man that claimed me as his slave; a journal. And I have been told to write. But what to write? My frustrations, to start perhaps. Or even how I ended up.. in a collar and on the plains.

Apparently my family cheated him.

Still, to this day, I do not know the full details. But he came for me, this man, along with others. I had been followed, never knowing it. The guards with me did not know it either. They were slain, and I was taken, because my father apparently owed him.. something. I do not know if my father had willingly given me up or if he even knows, now, of my.. status. There is a side of me that is too frightened to ask. Would he have given me up so easily? His only daughter? I admit, he is a sneaky man and he has made a few crooked deals in the past. And I also admit, he is selfish. If he had been given the choice of his life or mine.. Well....

Well, here I am. A slave. A Tuchuk's slave. The day I was collared and branded, I will never forget. Up until then, I had shown my.. Master nothing but ire, with a tongue built of fire, easy to burn anyone with words. I had a... fit that day. A temper tantrum, if you will. This tantrum, I showed inside of his wagon while he was outside. I destroyed the neat little wagon, made it look as if a wild storm had raged through it.

I will never forget how calm he seemed when he first entered. How he eyes passed so casually over my destruction, as casual as watching a passing cloud. But within a single blink that all seemed to change. He rushed at me. I had never seen someone move so quickly. He was on me before I had a chance to even prepare to defend myself. I was helpless. And I was whipped. Harshly. Brutally. He used the belt he wore. And by the time he was done, I felt as if my whole backside had been set on fire.

He wasn't finished with me. He dragged me out of his wagon, hauled me to another one and had slaves tie me to this.. wheel. I was not prepared for what would happen next. I was branded. More pain. The smell of burning flesh. I thought I would pass out, and I could feel my stomach churning. Branded. A Tuchuk's brand; the four horns of Bosks. When that was over, he placed a collar around my throat. It is a Turian collar, steel, and it doesn't fit quite so snug. It is just loose enough for him to curl his fingers into it--which he has done plenty of times.

Then, he took me back to his wagon. I had to clean up my mess, my destruction. Even though my body screamed in pain. He showed me no mercy.I still have dreams of this. And I think that I probably always will.That very day, I had my heart set that I would always despise the man; hate everything about him. But now, I find myself battling other emotions that are trying to take over that hate.

Is it possible to love someone, and at the same time, hate them so much?

The Gift.

:words from her master:

Write. Fill these pages with the essence of the woman you are.